


Vigilante

by kataracy



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 18:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12612240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kataracy/pseuds/kataracy
Summary: Set in a universe where it is illegal for the Avatar to pick their significant other, Officials from the next nation in the Avatar cycle meet to choose who the Avatar will marry in an ancient attempt of passing down the Avatar Spirit. But, Avatar Aang proves to be the wiliest Avatar they've ever dealt with when he decides he much rather prefers a pretty, southern waterbender named Katara, more than the northen one they chose for him. Just how far will they go to be together?





	Vigilante

Katara had a fondness for the little trinkets in Aang’s Northern cabin because they made the place look lived in; Aang's cabin was large, too much space for her little Nomad but, so was every dwelling an Avatar lived in. While the outside was covered with ice affixed to his shutters like crystals, the dwelling itself was made of imported wood and the inside was insulated wall to floor with shed bison fur instead of hunted animal pelts.

His living room had a low table with a thick blanket covering it that captured heat, shelves affixed to the wall with framed pictures and Lemur toys littering the tops. The way leading to his rooms hung two large tapestries of Northern symbols hung on either side of the hall.

His bedroom was usually messy but, a controlled mess, a clutter of two lives that had the opportunity to come together and wanted people to know that should they ever stumble in. Lots more framed pictures, mostly of himself and Katara and his work desk had affects from all of his friends to decorate or spill out of the drawers, like drawings or blown glass or masks or old play stubs.

Above everything else, Katara loved this room.

She liked that every home he had, he left pieces of himself behind but, this was more. This was proof that this place wasn't just a place to abandoned in a snowstorm. This had life, meaning, things in here couldn't be left behind like bobbles...

Katara wasn’t an overconfident woman; she didn’t boast about things she believed unachievable, which is why she could grab Aang so fiercely and remind him that no matter how many places he lived or she saw, _together_ was their real home.

She could push him against his dresser, knocking frames over because he didn’t need pictures when she was right here, in his arms, tangible, alive, warm and wanting and, he could stumble and pull her towards his bed because she was the only one who fit so wonderfully on it with him.

Movements were battles; Their tongues fought, her nails dragged red into his blue tattoos, his hands repeatedly squeezed her bottom, their hips raised slow and roughly against each other’s. A fog was building on the floor and the sweat on their bodies felt cold, Katara felt him rip her leggings so she in turn cut through his tunic. He stood up and Katara closed her legs around his hips almost in fear that he would leave yet Aang merely turned them around and dropped them both back into the bed, grinding harder, slower now that he was on top, making Katara’s body respond and flushing her cheeks when his hand scampered into her top and rolled her breast.

It wasn’t usually like this, **_so_** rough. Tonight, it had to be. She had to moan loudly when he grabbed her hair because she _wanted_ everyone to hear this and Aang had to groan _aloud_ in pleasure when she tenderly bit his earlobe; Katara needed to cry out when he grinded against her so slow and deep. Aang had to groan at the friction.

After all, how could they tear apart two people who even _sounded_ good together?

They couldn’t...

They can’t.

Don’t leave me...

_don’t leave me_ ,

“Katara…?”

She opened her eyes, not knowing they had closed, accidentally letting her budding tears roll into her ears. Aang eyebrows bunched and his lip bit together and Katara could tell he was trying to hold in his own.

“I love you.” She whispered. Her hands untied the strings of his pants and then settled at his waist.

“I love _you_.” Aang quickly replied in kind. He kicked out of his pants and littered kisses on her face to replace her tears.

“Don’t leave me.” She repeated as she lifted her hips wider.

“I won’t.” Aang promised, “I can’t.”

“A- ** _Aah_** … _ **Aang**_ …”

Her eyes slightly crossed before closing. Her back arched and her neck was bathed in Aang's heated breath. He kissed down her chest and rolled her pert nipple around his tongue, making Katara’s throat squeak out a gasp.

She clawed down his shoulders, down his chest. When he continued to thrust slowly,

she squeezed tighter,

he cried out,

she moved her hands to bite her fingers and his hand pushed them aside, so she brought his head up and nibbled his lips instead,

he picked up the pace, she met his speed and he ended where she began.

“...Run away with me...”

“...Try and stop me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Do you know how tempted I was to call this "the On The Run Tour"


End file.
